The Message
by rachelelizabeth-p
Summary: Modern AU - Crutchie's phone call from prison the morning after the strike.


One Ring. Two Rings. Three Rings.

Crutchie's heart broke a little more with each unanswered tone. The phone shook in his hands, him fighting to keep it together. The prison guard stood a few feet away, staring with a glare that Crutchie didn't think he deserved.

There was a loud click on the other line.

"Hi, this is Jack. Probably can't make it to the phone right now, but leave a message, and I might just get back to you. No promises."_  
><em>

BEEP.

_Hey Jack. Greetings from the Refuge. How are you?_

_I'm okay._

That was a total and complete lie, and Jack would know it. Crutchie didn't want to talk about the problems of right now like how his wrists were raw and bleeding from the too tight handcuffs or how his limp was worse than ever after the beating he received when he got to this hellhole of a prison. He only had a few minutes, and there was so much he wanted to say. Taking a deep breath, he continued.

_Guess I wasn't much help yesterday. Snyder soaked me real good with my crutch._

Crutchie broke off with a wince as a sharp pain shot through his chest. His ribs were still turning a dark black and blue even though the strike had been over twenty-four hours ago, the strike that had failed miserably and gotten him tossed into this place. Would Jack know it was him? Crutchie was sure he sounded awful, his voice rough from no water and weary from lack of sleep.

_Oh, yeah. Jack, this is Crutchie by the way._

There was a scoff from the corner, causing Crutchie to glance in that direction. The guard crossed his arms, leaning back against the wall and closing his eyes. Crutchie turned away from him and lowered his voice slightly.

_These here guards. They is rude. They say 'jump boy'_

_'jump boy or you're screwed'_

He cringed at memories from his arrival before moving on to try and lighten the mood.

_But the food ain't so bad. 'least so far cause so far they ain't brought us no food. _Ha Ha.

Crutchie laughed sarcastically into the phone, wishing he could hear one of Jack's silly comebacks answer him. He closed his eyes with a sigh, blocking out the muffled cries seeping in from the closed door.

_I miss the rooftop, sleeping right out in the open in your penthouse in the sky. There's a cool breeze blowing even in July._

He bit back a sob and cleared his throat, blinking away the stinging tears in his eyes.

_Anyway._

Crutchie dropped his voice even lower.

_So guess what, there's a secret escape plan I got. Tie a sheet to the bed, toss the end out the window, and climb down then take off like a shot._

Crutchie's leg throbbed with a sudden bout of cramps, and he bent over with a groan.

_Maybe not tonight_

He was able to get out as the cramps subsided.

_I ain't slept, and my leg still ain't right._

He hadn't slept a wink last night. Crutchie had feared sleep. His cellmate terrified him. He could barely move, so badly beaten from the strike. The isolation he felt from not being with his fellow newsboys bothered him, even though he had wished for it just a few nights ago. He forced himself to stay awake until the sun rose, casting his cell in his favorite color, a soft orange, that contrasted the harsh reality of the true situation.

_Hey but Pulitzer, he's going down, and then Jack, I was thinking we might just go, like you was saying to where it's clean and green and pretty with no buildings in the way, a__nd you're riding palominos every day!_

_Once that train makes-_

"One minute, kid," The guard called from his spot against the wall.

Crutchie nodded quickly, scared of what the consequences would be if he went over.

_Damn this place._

He said under his breath, though it was bound to be heard on the recording later.

_I'll be fine, good as new, but there's one thing you need to do. On the rooftop you said that a family looks out for each other so you tell all the fella's for me to protect one another._

_The end. _

Crutchie was unsure of how to conclude the phone call as he had so much he still wanted to say.

_Your friend_

No.

_Your best friend_

Still not right.

_Your brother,_

Perfect.

_Crutchie. _


End file.
